A single Darktrooper, a Phase III model, stood inactive on the training grounds, eyes dim and body bent over to expose a gaping access hatch on the rear of the machine. Cranking his neck, Major General Braun'Syar adjusted his pilot suit and reached into the machine placing his hands onto chest exoskeleton of his unit and sliding them apart and into the arm sockets – his ducked head followed his arms in, stepping up to the back of the machine he lifted his torso and head up until his shoulders pushed arm sockets up and locked them into their ‘active’ position – the unit straightened up, its legs opening at the rear to allow him to step in before the rear hatches closed around him, locking him into the powered armour…leaving him in the enclosed darkness, as the unit booted up with a whine of actuating generators the monitor screens before him in the unit’s chest cavity flickered to life, the multiple screens giving him a complete one-eighty degree display along with a readout of his units status, current target and ammunition supply.

Gripping the controls in the arm sockets he lifted one of the units hands before the glowing photoreceptors of the unit, not that his actual head was inside the units head, but it served to get a good look of how responsive the unit was…he counted a delay of a good five-ten seconds between thought and application, normal and acceptable in the era that the Phase III had been first commissioned. He pushed his head back into a frame behind him, feeling it lock around the back of his skull – this was something that had been retrofitted into the unit, a neuro-link…and like any good officer he’d volunteered to test it. There was surprisingly less pain then he expected, the implant they’d given him merely tingled a little as it linked into the device – the monitors blinked red, alerting him that the connection between him and the unit had been established. He blinked, it didn’t feel particularly different – hardly worth the trouble of giving all his pilots’ implants for – with a sigh he prepared to lift his arm again, but before he could manually make the action the arm moved with the thought, sliding in front of the unit’s photoreceptor, virtually no delay between thought and application.

Gato narrowed his eyes, throwing the unit into a flurry of arm actions and steps that he would never have bothered with if the unit had been fitted with standard controls, but with Researches new modifications his unit moved with fluidity letting him push it more and more, its own balancing tech compensating for his far more wild actions, with a push of his feet he ignited the jump pack, leaping into the air and landing on a nearby barracks building, robotic arms moving to his hips – General Khryss was going to be sorely missed if this was the kind of legacy he left in his wake._________________

The Flagstone settled to the ground near the training grounds, as a squad of his precious Phase III Dark Troopers worked on maneuvers based on open-field combat. The battle suits flowed seamlessly from combat to perfect parade attention, with a single suit at the fore, as the loading ramp of the shuttle dropped.

The Colonel-General strode down the ramp, clad in a suit of old Storm Commando armor, specially modified to fit his larger frame and sitting with two massive pistols on either hip. His rank plaque, invisible to the naked eye, was clear on the displays inside of the Phase III Armor, and immediately all of the soldiers snapped to full attention as he approached.

"At ease." the voice resonated across the communications channel, and with an eerie synchrony the Phase III-clad warriors assumed the position ordered. For a moment the helmed head simply gazed over the assembled ranks, then turned his attention to the one at the fore.

The man was one of the first to be selected for General Khryss' augments to the Phase III program. At first, Scyntor had balked at sending one of his highest-ranking field officers into the surgical bay, but after repeated reassurance from the diminutive scientist, he had relented... and as always, he had proven himself. With a smile concealed beneath the helmet, he motioned towards the lead suit.

"Major-General Braun'syar, front and center."_________________

"I do not forgive. Look into my eyes, and you will see only the promise of Hell."

Gato stomped forwards in his suit, raising his shand to the 'forehead' of his suit "Colonel-General Scyntor, SAH!" he smilled beneath the armour of his battlesuit, Scyntor seemed to feel the need to check up on the augments to the Phase III's, he liked the man for that reason, never one to turn his eyes away from any of the units under his command.

He would have never been able to salute in the old model units, but the alterations to the new units allowed for far more humanoid movements of the unit._________________

The seamless movement of the soldiers was astounding... the first Rebels they saw on the battlefield would be in for a drastic surprise. However, they still needed to be field-tested, and the Colonel-General had a perfect opportunity for them. "Major-General, there has been some unrest on one of our systems. The Admiralty of the Navy decided to simply drop a base on one side of the planet while everyone was gathered on the other side, and it seems that the natives didn't like the idea so much."

Scyntor paused, looking over the ranks of troopers a moment, before straightening his back and looking towards them. "Have your men ready for deployment in twelve hours, Gato, I am sending your unit in, backed up by one Legion of Phase IIs. I want to see what these units are capable of, and their haste may work out favorably for us. You have precisely five days to quash this uprising and restore order to the area immediately surrounding our bases. Are you ready?_________________

"I do not forgive. Look into my eyes, and you will see only the promise of Hell."

Gato flexed his gauntlets, "As always I’m ready Sir, and itching for a chance to work out the kinks in the new suits - I'd have preferred a more difficult test for my unit, giving them easy tasks will breed laxness, the Darktroopers haven’t seen enough deployment, my pilots are still a little green...but I will as-ever follow your commands, Sir…this insurgency won’t grow beyond its infancy.” He glanced at the lines of his battlesuit troops, “My unit is the best…and only...Autonomous Assault Troops in the glaxy…nothing can stand against us.”

He grinned wildly within his suit, and reached up, freeing the helm of his suit letting the colonel see his face, “Not to sound to arrogant, but with these new suits, my men are the best offensive troops in the entire galaxy.”_________________

Such confidence... it was good, but it needed to be dialed back a bit. Scyntor smiled beneath the contours of his helm. Maybe it would be a good idea to withhold that little bit of information about the entire planet being against them. A slight nod was all that would register outside of the armor, and the satisfied sound to the Colonel-General's voice.

"Very well, then. You and your corps are dismissed, Major-General. The ship will lift off at 1800."_________________

"I do not forgive. Look into my eyes, and you will see only the promise of Hell."

As the ship containing the Phase III Dark troopers lifted off, his suits internal comlink buzzed. "Sir, we've received a message from the Tamarang. They're enroute from Mandalore."

Scyntor nodded slightly to himself. He had wondered where those cells had gone, but now wasn't the time for such idle musings. There was work to be done, and the absence of any 'mission complete' codes meant there was something that still needed to be done. It was going to be harrowing, getting things ready in time for the event High Command had brewing... time was running short indeed. "Send a return message, same carrier wave using command frequency Blanco 16. '1300 hours.' Execute."

"Understood, Sir. Traffic Control out." The comm went dead, and Scyntor looked up at the skies. So much to do, so little time to do it in... with an abrupt about-face, Scyntor strode to the Flagstone and settled into the passenger compartment, watching the terrain vanish beneath the ascending loading ramp. A slight vibration told him they were taking off, and as they streaked through the atmosphere, the ship banked towards a patch of seemingly empty space in high orbit, seemingly towards the brilliant sun of Carida.

Specially modified forward viewports polarized, and as the last wisps of atmosphere parted around them the dark shape of the Arc Hammer II came into view. Unerringly the pilot sent command frequencies to the construction ship, and a massive docking bay yawned open to accept the speck of a shuttle. Scyntor was already on the move even as the support struts creaked in the artificial gravity, on his way towards one of the primary medical bays. Preparations had to be made._________________

"I do not forgive. Look into my eyes, and you will see only the promise of Hell."